


Pictures

by sonictrowel



Series: Long Night in the Blue House [56]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Family Feels, Flash Forward, Gen, friendship fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-11-17 13:39:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11276409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonictrowel/pseuds/sonictrowel
Summary: Bill didn’t think he looked too young to have been working there seventy years; he didn’t tell her it was eighty.  She didn’t look at him with that wide-eyed hero worship and longing he’d so often gotten from companions (and either been secretly pleased about or slightly uncomfortable with, depending on how much of a dick he was at the time.)  She saved that look of awe and joy for her lessons.  She loved learning.  She looked at him like she was just terribly fond of him.  This one!  The old, cross-looking one!   And he hadn’t even taken her to space!





	Pictures

**Author's Note:**

> You guys, ask me how much I love Bill and how long I have been dying to get to the bit when she's there just being delightful. 
> 
> Answer: *incoherent sobbing because I love her SO MUCH*

[Earth, 2016]

The Doctor really did try to take River’s words to heart.  Over the next couple of decades, he made himself as happy as he knew how to be, considering, because he knew it would ease her mind.  He didn’t want her to keep worrying about him out here in the world.  And, all told, he had a lot to be grateful for.  His children were safe in the best possible hands, and, for being widowed, he got to see quite a lot of his wife.  And it was temporary.  It was just for now.  However long ‘now’ would turn out to be.

But he’d been standing still for too damn long, and he still didn’t know how to fix it all, to put an end to it.  He was starting to crawl out of his skin.  River kept insisting he needed some distraction.  That he needed to find someone besides his deranged best enemy and the increasingly smotheringly stuffy Nardole to keep him company.  He just smiled at her every time and told her there was no point; no one else could fill the gaping holes in his life.  It wouldn’t be fair to expect them to try.

And then there was the girl who kept turning up in his lectures.  The one who smiled when she didn’t understand.  His eyes kept being drawn to that smile, like a damn sunbeam in the sea of indistinguishable faces.  He didn’t notice people, not anymore.  He was against noticing.

That smile reminded him of… someone.  Or someones.  His mind drifted to the portrait of Susan that kept watch over him on his desk, and the other photos he kept hidden away in the TARDIS, safe from prying eyes.  But as he’d said, that comparison was too much pressure to put on an ordinary, unsuspecting human.  Best he just continue to enjoy seeing her in the crowd, and leave it at that.

Only he did check into her, just a bit.  Just for the sake of being thorough.  And it turned out she wasn’t a student at all.  

Well, that wouldn’t do.  He couldn’t very well stand idly by while someone with that kind of obvious disposition for brilliance missed out on receiving a higher education.  It would be morally indefensible!

So, the Doctor got himself a private student.

Bill didn’t think he looked too young to have been working there seventy years; he didn’t tell her it was eighty.  She didn’t look at him with that wide-eyed hero worship and longing he’d so often gotten from companions (and either been secretly pleased about or slightly uncomfortable with, depending on how much of a dick he was at the time.)  She saved that look of awe and joy for her lessons.  She loved learning.  She looked at _him_ like she was just terribly fond of him.  This one!  The old, cross-looking one!   And he hadn’t even taken her to space! 

And she was missing her family, too.  One she’d never truly gotten to know.  He wondered that about Athena, sometimes: if she would really remember them after a few years, or if they’d just become stories that filled in the space where the memories used to be.  At least they’d given her lots of pictures.  

Now _that_ was something he could help with.

Funny, how similar having a student felt to having a daughter after all.  But he had to be careful.  He’d two of those already.  Well, sort of already.  Not that he wouldn’t welcome adding another, but… he couldn’t go letting another human break his hearts, and they always did, in the end.  Not their fault they couldn’t live forever.

But, hell, he’d been starved for good company in the real world.  Seemed like they both had.

River was delighted, of course.

“Can you call off your bloody lackey, then?” he grumbled.  “He is driving me out of my damn mind.  I’m not even doing anything!  He’s accused me of getting ‘involved,’ whatever the hell that means.”

“It… does sound like he might be having a difficult time,” River said, frowning.

“Difficult?” the Doctor snorted.  “He’s the one who’s decided to appoint himself my chief micromanager.  He is welcome to sod off at any time.” 

“Darling,” River said, with a warning edge to her voice he had not heard in quite a lot of years.  The one that meant he was being a complete arse, and would shortly be feeling like one.  “Don’t forget that Nardole was with us, through everything.  That he was there _for_ us.  When Milly left, when Athena was born, and at the end.  I don’t think he’s _got_ another family.”

Another?— oh.  

Well, yep, there it was.  The Doctor grimaced.  He _was_ an arse.

“Just try to have a little patience with him.”

He nodded, feeling too ashamed to voice a response.

___

And the Doctor really did try.  Nardole was one of only two people in his very small world now who actually knew him, and the other one was likely still an evil lunatic and was just keeping it under wraps til whenever she deemed the most amusing time to shout ‘surprise!’  And he was the _only_ one who knew River and the girls.  He was smart, actually, and surprisingly capable and worldly, although maybe not so surprising given that he’d been travelling the universe with River.  And if he acted a bit of a wimp at times, well, he got the job done anyway.  Besides, the Doctor couldn’t bear brave people anymore.  Brave was overrated.

He really did appreciate Nardole.  There had been times when they’d got on better, but he was always quick to forgive when they didn’t.  The Doctor was grateful for his company, even if it often manifested as a total nuisance.  So he really, truly tried to have patience with him.   

Whether he succeeded was… debatable.

Because then there was a sinister puddle, and a girl with a star in her eye, and suddenly he remembered what it all was like.  He was an addict and he’d slipped up, and if he wasn’t careful…

But then, he knew exactly what River was going to say.  And Susan— and when had it ever been wise to ignore his girls’ opinions on anything?  He probably shouldn’t start now.  Not when there was someone right here who deserved so very much to see the stars.

___

[2017]

It’d been an interesting few months, to say the least.  Ups and downs and mad chases and mortal peril— all the sort of things he’d become very out of practise with, but luckily it seemed he was able to hit his stride without too many disasters. 

It was only through the grace of the Old Girl’s pity that they’d landed on the frozen Thames the day _after_ River’s birthday.  That would have been… well.  He was grateful he didn’t have to find out.  He was not terribly surprised to find that he had been paying absolutely no attention the last time he was there, either.  It was good of the Old Girl to make sure he cleared up the messes he’d neglected in happier days.

It was still a rough one, though.  Bill would just have to see the truth of him and decide if she could accept it.  There wasn’t any use pretending to be a better man than he was; he knew that by now.  He’d been lucky enough to be loved just the same— and fortunately for his poor old hearts, it seemed that just this once his luck would hold.

___

“Doctor!”  Bill’s voice came muffled through the TARDIS doors, along with a quick rapping on the glass.  “You in there?” 

He snapped his fingers and heard the door creak open.  “Back here, Bill!”

He’d been looking at the pictures he couldn’t keep out on his desk.  River beaming up at the camera with baby Athena sat on her lap, squealing with laughter.  Him and River with Milly on her graduation day, down on the pitch under the glaring stadium lights.

“What you doing in here?” Bill asked from the doorway, grinning with amusement.  “Did you have a big lunch or something?”

“Nah.  Just visiting.”

She glanced at the row of frames arranged in front of him on River’s vanity, then back at him as she walked into the room.  “Doctor, who’re they?” 

A smile tugged at his lips as he picked up one of the frames and passed it to her.  “That’s my daughter, Milly.” 

Bill’s eyebrows shot up and her face broke into a delighted grin.  “Really?”

“Mmhm,” he said, feeling a weird little surge of pride.  Then he realised: he’d never gotten to introduce his daughters to anyone before, or brag about them and embarrass them, or any of that.  He really, really hoped someday he’d get the chance.

“Hang on, your… _biological_ daughter?  —Not that I care, obviously— only, isn’t that your wife, with the hair?”

“Oh, she’s the spitting image of River’s last body.  Got her eyes from mine, though.”

“From your…?” 

“My previous regeneration.”

“...huh.”

“Well, don’t worry about that.  Time Lord stuff.  It can be a bit confusing.”

“Yeah, I’d say so,” she said with a little laugh.  Her smile twisted to the side and she raised her eyebrows again as she studied the photo.  “She’s cute.”

“Now, don’t go getting any ideas.”

“Oh, what, she doesn’t like girls then.”

“Er, never asked, actually.  But we’re generally flexible on that point.  Time Lords, I mean.  Otherwise marriage would _really_ be a gamble.”

Bill narrowed her eyes in confusion and opened her mouth to speak, but he decided he didn’t feel like taking that line of questioning at the moment.

“And if you were a Time Lord, Bill, I’d be writing my wedding toast.  Just in case.” 

She snorted, but looked extremely pleased.  She _really_ didn’t have a face for ‘enigmatic.’

“So, humans and Time Lords, then, that’s a no-go?”

“No, it’s just…”  He sighed and smiled sadly at her.  “Humans, you don’t last nearly long enough.  Bad enough I’ll have to lose you someday.  I just don’t want that for my kids.”

Bill pressed her lips together and looked at him thoughtfully, before stepping closer and wrapping him in a one-armed hug.  For a few moments they were silent.

“Doctor...” she said tentatively, “where _are_ your family?”  She looked up at him, her brows drawn together.  

After a tense pause, he flashed her a smile that was all mouth and no eyes and patted her shoulder as he took the photo from her hand and replaced it on the vanity. 

“So what did you come about, Bill?”

She shook her head slightly, but didn’t press him.  “Oh, I was just wonderin' if you know of any more bigger-on-the-inside boxes.  Cause I think at this point the only flat share we’re going to find cheap enough will _literally_ be a box.”

“Ah, don’t get so down about it.  You got the alien woodlice out of the way first thing!  The next one’s bound to be good.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I’ll let you have a look at the next one first.  Just, y'know, to put your mind at ease.”

 The Doctor smiled to himself as they headed out of the TARDIS.

 

 

 

 


End file.
